


Treatment

by awalkinthepark



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal - Fandom, Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alana Bloom - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Intercourse, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bev (Hannibal) - Freeform, Blushing, Consensual (eventually) non-consent, Embarrassment Kink, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Frottage, Group Sex, Hand Sex, Hannibal Lecter - Freeform, Jack Crawford - Freeform, Kissing, Light restraint, Limb sex, M/M, M/NB/M/F/F/M, Margo Verger - Freeform, Massage, Masturbation, Multi, Multi - Freeform, OC Female, OC Male, OC gender non-binary - Freeform, Oral Sex, Orgasms, Orgy, Other, Other - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Price (Hannibal) - Freeform, Sex Toys, Sixsome, Smut, Smut and nothing but, Somnophilia, Spit Roast, Spit Roasting, Spit roast +, Team Sassy Science, The Anesthesiologist (he) - Freeform, The Client (they) The RMT (she) - Freeform, Unconventional Massage therapy, Vaginal Sex, Vertical spit roasting, Vibrators, Voyeurism, WatchTheTeeth!, Will Graham - Freeform, Zeller (Hannibal) - Freeform, and Then-some!, body blush, digital? sex ;D, four-way, let’s be honest—its just porn, multiplayer games ;), noncon, oh dear god The Humanity!, thermage, three-way, vaginal intercourse, vertical spit roasting +
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awalkinthepark/pseuds/awalkinthepark
Summary: ~The characters of Hannibal somehow show up to help out with a specially-arranged form of “treatment”.~Welcome to your guilty pleasure for the day! ;DThis started as me missing my RMT treatments. And then trying for lucid dreaming. And then being a Fannibal intervened. . . please read the tags for more information!
Relationships: ONBC/Alana Bloom, ONBC/Hannibal Lecter, ONBC/Jack Crawford, ONBC/Margot Verger, ONBC/Will Graham, ONBC/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Margot Verger/Alana Bloom/Jack Crawford
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Treatment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/gifts), [stratumgermanitivum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/gifts).



> For whiskeyandspite and stratumgermanitivum, who’ve given me hours of reading pleasure, two years running.

***

So it starts out like any other massage therapy treatment. I enter and we take a seat. She asks me what parts need treating, and then she asks me a few more probing questions as she types on the keyboard that relays the information to her tablet, held in a slanted holder in front of her. Then she tucks everything away, saying that it’s been a long time since she’s seen me and that we may need to go deeper this time. I reassure her that I remember how to do my deep breathing to get through the difficult spots. She smiles and nods and I think I catch just a little of that sadistic purr she gets in her voice when I remind her that she does, actually, have to be a bit of a sadist to do her job well. 

She leaves and I hurry to undress, looking forward to human touch again after being isolated for three months, living alone during the COVID-19 outbreak in my city. Most normal people would be devastated by such deprivation but even before, I would spend three days sometimes without leaving my house, even to go on the patio, without even thinking about it. When I am not in a relationship I tend to slip back into my monastic ways automatically. The next partner usually reaps the benefits of such touch-starved skin and fingers. . . and other parts.

I lie face down as she had instructed, so she has better access to my shoulders and neck and calves, three frequent areas of distress. Out of boredom and desperation for something to do that didn’t require the decontamination required of a trip outside, I had shaved my legs for the first time in years, getting rid of the patchy and dark long hairs that had accumulated on my rapidly aging skin. 

*Looking good until it all goes to hell in a handbasket in under half a decade* I sigh to myself, knowing that the genetic condition that has made my skin so radiant and carefree for decades was relaxing softly into early senescence. It was the splays of tiny wrinkles by my eyes of which a friend once confided that she was envious, her own more prominent crow’s feet incised by years of smiling and sun on the Prairies and in the high mountains of Bolivia.

I settle my face into the pillow nest that my massage therapist makes for my head and shoulders because I cannot lie flat for any length of time. I draw the thin flannel of the tiny pillowcases against my cheeks and forehead and let my shoulders drop slightly onto the pillows below them, pulling the cover sheet awkwardly over my back with the strain still somewhat apparent in my not-quite healed right shoulder.

She enters quietly and chuckles slightly as she straightens the sheet over my shoulders as she takes her place above my head. As I gently close my eyes, I notice that my head starts to swim a little as I start to rear up a little, struggling to get a hold of the swirling of my senses. I lurch a bit to the right as my shoulder gives and my hand slips. She makes a shushing noise and says, “Give that a moment”. It hits my hindbrain that what I mistook for a slight whiff of alcohol-abetted perfume left by a previous client this morning must have been some sort of airborne sedative. I belatedly remember that I am her first client of the day. My muscles let go as the rest of my senses wink out, one by one.  
***

I wake, groggily, not remembering at first where I am, my face still mashed against the tiny pillows. She notices the change in my breathing and addresses me softly.

“I knew you’d be so tight after so long without help for your aching muscles that I arranged a special deep treatment for you. It requires the help of a number of other people, one of whom is a very talented anesthesiologist who treated you during that test you had at the university hospital the other year.”

“He was so glad to be a part of this consult. He said you seemed positively angelic when his careful ministrations worked on you so beautifully, relaxing your anxious heartbeat from over a hundred to just over sixty in no time. He’d made a special request to your family doctor to be a part of your treatment anytime you next needed him. And she was so forthcoming with his number when I called her with my plans for you. I hope you don’t mind. You’ve developed a really great team of practitioners around you. They all want the best for your health.”

By now my mind is becoming clearer and I start processing what she had said to me. I try to open my eyes to see and my mouth to speak but I can only slit my eyes a bit and breathe out a soft sigh from parted lips.

“Yes,” she says, “we’ve given you something to make sure that you stay relaxed during the whole treatment time, so you can achieve the maximum benefits. Though, I think we will need to go a bit over your normal length of visit to give you what you need. Remember to take as deep breaths as you can—you will be needing the oxygen to heal all that tightness and the release of lactic acid from having your muscled worked on.” 

At that she falls silent where she is standing at the head of the treatment table. I feel a slight bump on the top left of the table and see her shadow moving to my left. Her quiet movements resound off the walls of a much larger room as I realize that I have been moved. She seems to sense my panic and starts moving her fingers and palms through my hair, lengthened as it is by months of isolation away from my barber. She makes a hushing noise as her fingers then slip gently away from me. I feel a harder jolt to the table, realizing that she now has one knee on either side of my hips, her silk-covered legs and feet tucked up against the sides of my torso. She makes a sound of contemplation as I realize as well that I can no longer feel the cool of the cover sheet anywhere on my body. And that I am completely naked, in a strange room, completely at her mercy. 

I know that I have always found her to be interesting and engaging but this, this is a little more extreme than the real friendship that I had hoped that might bloom from our treatment sessions. Perhaps that was what she was counting on. I was just coming to accept that little corner of my mind when I heard a slight shuffling coming from my right, like someone getting up from a comfortable padded chair. Panic started rising in my mind. *Just how many people are going to be required for this “treatment”?!* 

Soft masculine voices interrupted this thought, at least three I could delineate. One very deep and resonant, one with an accent that seemed familiar, and one with a lighter lilt with something maybe a bit Southern US. Then there was quite a bit of rustling and distraction as she sat a bit on my lower back and started massaging my buttocks. 

“You always have stored so much tension in your glutes and hips. Remember your breathing,” she said, her voice soft and breathy as she works my muscles from an entirely new angle. She was just so good at her work and my trained relaxation response to her touch and her words started to take hold and I gave in, just a little more. Until the ministrations to my muscles started to take a more—intimate—turn. 

Slicking her hands up with more of the purified coconut oil that she always used on my allergic and sensitive skin, she began working her fingertips into the crease where my legs met the rest of me, gradually widening the space between them at the apex of my thighs. *Definitely not the same treatment table I was on* I thought idly. It would never have been wide enough to permit the increasing V-shape that my legs were being worked into.

Then she began slowly working a small, slicked up, tethered vibrator up into my anus, teasing the tip around my puckered entrance at first, getting me used to the sensation. I was really trying hard to move at this point or say something to object. But the room and her body were warm and whatever I had been given allowed me next to no movement and I eventually just had to lie there and take it, even mentally. I felt myself beginning to be aroused, the wetness pooling between sets of lips rarely kissed.

Then a number of fingers from different hands start exploring my increasingly wet genitalia. A male voice starts up from the right, hands stroking over my slightly sore shoulder and up to my neck. I recognize it as Will Graham’s and mentally gasp my surprise, as she gets off my lower back. Between the two of them, they maneuver him underneath my limp form, draping my limbs over him as needs dictated. The head of the table is slightly inclined up and he rests back on a pillow or two, my head cuddled up in the crook formed by his neck and shoulder. I feel my eyes closing as I draw in his natural scent, definitely not something with a ship on the bottle. 

I can feel his erection between my slightly skewed thighs, pausing there temptingly. His curls brushing my neck and face, he moves and lifts me up, arching my back slightly to conform to his reclined position. He enters me face-to-face, my already wet lips opening sweetly for him. He moans a bit as he settles himself into me, finding a more comfortable position with my hips above his and my legs splayed wide over the treatment table.

As he works himself under me on a slight incline, he flexes me backward a little bit more, kissing and coddling my slack lips. I have been allowed a certain amount of movement back by then and I shudder involuntarily at the depth of his penetration. I breathe deeply, surrounded by his scent as he strokes my hair and begins to move inside me with an elliptical course. It strikes my most soft and sensitive spots inside as he does so and I begin to weakly cling to him and lick the salt of the sweat forming on whatever patch of his skin that my tongue can reach.

And then the sense of being overwhelmed takes over as he starts gently thrusting inside of me and someone else removes the tiny vibrator in my anus and starts preparing it for something larger. I gasp as fingers from two hands, slicked with some soft and warm liquid, engage with my puckered opening. My breathing becomes harder as I try to mentally and physically process what is happening at my front and back and insides. Will kisses me deep while continuing his constant, slow thrusting. 

I hear a little chuckle of delight from that accented voice as he breathes, “That’s it; that’s the relaxation we need to see. You are doing so well. Now, just a little more for me.” I melt at his voice and the feel of Will’s tongue in my mouth and now probing down my throat. The rubbing at my slicked and hot opening results in a relaxation and I let go. Will speeds up as Hannibal begins stroking two fingers slowly inside of me. I feel oh so full and fucked, being taken from behind and from the front at the same time. 

It is hard to focus for a time and the feeling of friction on my clitoris enlarges, rubbing as I am up against Will’s pubic bone while being filled by his ample and skillfully-wielded endowment. He is so hot and sweaty and masculine as his abdominal muscles roll to hit all the right spots inside me with each stroke, relieving and reapplying pressure to my clit. 

And Hannibal, Hannibal has been busy during this time. Four of his slender fingers, two from each hand, are now inside me, making their rhythmic explorations more and more known. 

I begin to be able to move my arms and hands a little bit more and find myself now eagerly clutching at the muscles that cap Will’s shoulders, trying to ground myself somehow while my senses are on overload. As I approach an orgasm, Hannibal suddenly removes his fingers from my hot, slick, and widened opening. The change in sensation pushes me over the edge into full-on orgasm, clenching internally at Will’s insides and outsides. I collapse onto his chest, boneless and drooling slightly on his shoulder, muscles still not under my full control.

Still rock hard inside me, Will shifts me up to a partial sitting position as someone clicks the top of the table more upright. He settles me more onto his hips while I suddenly feel motion between my lower cheeks again. There is a gasp from the audience as I figure out that there are more men and women around us than I had thought. My already flushed cheeks redden past my shoulders and down my back and chest. I am so embarrassed but have no time to process before the head of Hannibal’s hardening penis is pushing pushing up into my already worked-open hole. He slides in, so tight. Just a bit, and then out. Just a bit, and then out. A slight breath of approval from the crowd comes with this viewing of his skill and control. 

Not to be outdone, Will’s thrusts slow to almost a crawl, rubbing gently against my oversensitive clit. I give Will one last slightly sloppy kiss and then lose control of my limbs and neck again, lost in post-orgasmic bliss and overwhelm from the continuing stimulations. Will catches the back of my head as I loll it back weakly, his other hand catching in my hair, holding my neck back in a perfect arch. I open my eyes to see Hannibal’s furry chest and nipples above me and my eyes start leaking tears. 

“Beautiful,” he says, as he sees the reddening of my eyelids and cheeks offset the glacier green of my eyes, our pupils widening in sympathy even at this awkward angle. Will sits up a little straighter, making room between his thighs for Hannibal’s knees as I start making involuntary kitten noises, one after another. Appreciative applause break out in the audience and Hannibal takes it as his cue to work more deeply inside of me.

Will is beginning to tremble with the effort of not coming and he detaches one hand from the back of my skull to hold it at the base of his own penis. The sensation of his member moving inside of me, brushing through my thin wall against Hannibal’s, must be excruciatingly pleasurable for him. He shudders and grips my hair less gently as Hannibal finally works his way fully inside me and starts to move. I am moved between their bodies as they set up a rhythm, in and out with little hiccups in the pushes, hitting sweet spots for all of us at once.

At the this point I feel the fingers of four slender and warm hands begin to stroke my upper arms and forearms, brushing the increasingly sensitive skin there. There are sounds of pleasure as they discover how soft my skin is as they stroke it with an altogether different rhythm and touch. I shudder again, and cry out, this time with unabated pleasures at the firm handling by Margot and Alana. The well-matched set place my hands on their own naked forms, pushing and pulling my fingers and hands into the clefts and crevices of their own bodies. Getting their pleasures from each other’s lips over my arched neck while their hands fondle my upper back and ample breasts between their hands, now warmed and slick with their own juices. 

Will is really starting to shake now as Hannibal picks up the pace. As he does, Alana and Margot pull my arms back and up slightly, pinning me to Hannibal’s chest as Will lets go of my hair. He moves his other hand to my lower back as his other clutches onto his member for dear life, grunting with his efforts not to come. Hannibal begins to feel the same strain and grips me around the front of my waist. Sweat trickles from his hair, over this sideburns, and down alongside his throat as he tilts his chin down in concentration. I can feel the heat of his mahogany gaze all over my body, finally settling again on my heavily-lidded own.

Then I feel a heavy weight added to the already-strained treatment table. A dark shadow falls over me as Jack stands before me, already engorged and dripping. My lips part and my jaw drops as we make eye contact, his desire echoing my look of slight fear but interest nonetheless. He takes it as a good sign when I take my bottom lip between my teeth and then flick my tongue back over it while closing my eyes briefly. When I open them, the head of his penis is closer and I thrust out my tongue as best I can to lick a taste. He closes his own eyes and says, “They are as sweet as they look. How do I taste?”

I say, “Salty and slick, Sir,” finding my voice. “With just a hint of mystery, Sir,” I breathe out. That garners me a quiet chuckle from him and a giggle from the rest of the audience, whom I now recognize as Price, Zeller, and Bev. Jack strokes my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs before lining himself up to my lips. I open to him, earning us a wolf whistle from Zeller before he’s elbowed in the ribs by Bev, her grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

I have little time to think as I take him into my mouth, already riding the members of the two men beneath me and held up by the two women beside me, who are using my hands for their own pleasures again. My limbs are less boneless now and I can feel the softness inside their folds as they alternately hold me in place and grind their wetness against my limbs. There is so much wetness from lubrication and bodily fluids from tears to sweat to vaginal lubrication that everything just glides.

Jack slides farther into my mouth as I try to touch my tongue all over him, keeping my lips tight around his penis and sucking between breaths. He pushes farther, to the back of my throat and I reflexively swallow, pulling at his edges and making him shout his pleasure. It feels like the world shakes as I try to take a breath and he is steadied by two hands from the ladies on either side. The peanut gallery is at a hush as the grunts and moans of everyone at the treatment table begin to align and get more frantic. 

Through all the shuddering and groans and sighs and breaths I am sure that I begin to hear the rhythmic slap of skin on skin from Team Sassy Science, making me grin a bit. Jack pulls back slightly at this, saying, “WatchTheTeeth!” before I close my lips again and take a long pull on his member. He tries to speak more but only inarticulate sounds of pleasure come out.

Will is the first to let go, with a juddering tension and a cry that is almost a wordless shout. Hannibal comes soon after, clutching both his arms around my chest, fingers tearing at my pendulous breasts from opposing sides. The pressure as they both continued pulsing inside me set off my own clenches, running up to my engorged clitoris and spreading fire to my spine, spiking through my body with the high-peak orgasm, tiny building whimpers spilling into a full throated scream around Jack. Jack feels that with the thrusts we were already exchanging and loses it completely, his head thrown back, lips in a silent “O”, back arched as he spills right after I had taken a gasp of air in after my scream. I swallow down his hot mess without thinking, my lips then slackening as he retreats from my mouth. 

The ladies at my fingertips were not to be outdone, grinding themselves to orgasm on any slick body part within reach while they embraced and kissed deeply over my arched body once Jack withdrew.

“And a good time was had by all!” exclaimed Zeller, weakly, as Price and Bev giggled from somewhere near him.

My RMT and the anesthesiologist came over to the table, grinning at the lot of us. 

“How do you feel? Was the treatment successful?” she said through her now fond smile.

I tried to wave an arm vaguely, only able to moan and then let out a weak laugh in response. A similar noise rippled from the others in the room, followed by more exhausted giggles.

— The End —

**Author's Note:**

> -I’ll just be over here, in my bunk, for the rest of the year!- ;D
> 
> 42 hits! We’ve hit the meaning of life together. Ah, bliss. :D
> 
> Awww! 60 hits. Now you’re just making me blush! 🥰
> 
> 69? Well, maybe next time. 😉
> 
> 130! Put a mark on the wall. Now we’re really cookin’!😉
> 
> 180 hits! Shucky darn. It’s like y’all are enjoying yourselves. 😃🤗
> 
> Woohoo! 300 hits. Thank you for reading, everyone. 😊 Oct. 11th, 2020
> 
> 402 hits! Yay! Thank you all for reading.❤️♥️🎉 A bit of fun for your day. :) (Jan. 2nd/21)


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